The Seven Deadly Sins
by xxDibDabxx
Summary: Follow two unexpectedly important pawns on this pointless chess-game of life as two angels fall into the demon's trap and commit these acts of wickedness. As they meet the peril and exhilaration of the seven deadly sins. Merlin/Arthur
1. Prologue

**The Seven Deadly Sins: Prologue**

**A/N: This is a mini-story about - shock, horror! - Merlin and Arthur commiting the seven deadly sins! Varies between crack and heavy stuff. It is slash, obviously. Don't like, don't read. Chapter one will be along before the end of the night. Enjoy and don't forget to review!**

Life is so very short. It is full of such things: Love, heartbreak, fear, relief, anger, solitude, smiles and tears. You're pushed to your limit, unable to slow down or look about, always urged forward in a desperate struggle to a target you know you'll never achieve. Among the blurry images and the hours that fall away as if they were sand in the hourglass, there are tiny, unnoticed moments of true purpose.

The _true_ purpose for as to why there is life itself.

Sometimes, the vast yet limited mass of life can take breath away. Being so very full, we don't care when it brims over the edges and falls down to the darkness, the end of life altogether. Death is just another path. We may not know where it leads, but we walk down it anyway.

Immortality is something we crave, we desire, we reach for with all our might yet – in a million clouds of impossibility - if ever we reach immortality, we find the truth. It is never a gift but a curse. To sit by and watch the world waste away, trapped like a stray fragment of the mirror of reality, stranded away from all the rest when the mirror shattered. You must watch all those you love wither and die, leaving you behind. Your heart grows cold and your mind hollow. Immortality is death that never ends.

But ever-lasting breaths and unstoppable heartbeats aren't in reach for everyone and so we must make the most of the little time we have. Every second in a risk, knowing that it could be our last. It is so easy to strip a feeble animal of its existence. And in this short time, those moments make life worth living.

Those moments make the unbearable thought of death - walking straight into the shadows with no path back – bearable.

Yet with the light comes the dark. With the life comes the death. With the good comes the bad.

And with those beautiful, fresh moments comes the smothering, brutal moments.

We call these sins.

They are those times when we tint our souls with such feelings and such actions, that they're classed as wrong. We know we are doing wrong, but the feeling of breaking the rules and getting away with it is just so thrilling, we do it anyway. Yet no one gets away with it. Perhaps, in those shadows of death, our tinted souls are judged. And thoroughly punished, as we deserve.

But with repayment, there is always redemption.

Still. These sins are called deadly for a reason. Follow two unexpectedly important pawns on this pointless chess-game of life as two angels fall into the demon's trap and commit these acts of wickedness. As they meet the peril and exhilaration of the seven deadly sins.


	2. Lust

**Lust**

**A/N: See, told you it would be up by the end of the night. This chapter does _imply_ a few things, but still. Since I believe that graphic scenes ruin stories, mine is free of them. Enjoy and don't forget to review!**

It had always been there, since their very first meeting. A guest that had been uninvited but most certainly accepted with such bittersweet excitement and delicious fear. They tried ignoring it, throwing it aside brutally with a vicious snarl. It tore at their minds and at their hearts, blissfully destroying everything and tinting their cheeks scarlet. They whimpered and picked it up, apologising in mumbles, hiding it under their shadow. Yes, it was there. But to everyone else, they completely denied even hearing it arrive. It waited with such a mouth-watering patience for one of the boys to crack and simply take what they desired. It didn't have much expectation for the humans.

……………………………………………

Sighing, Arthur slumped forward in his chair. He was officially _bored. _And with the sun having only just set, it was going to be a long night. Seeking entertainment, the prince turned to the nearest person, hoping for company. That was his father. Uther just blanked his son, continuing to eat and mumbling agreements as Arthur commented on the music, food and even _weather_.

When it got to the point of near-pain, Arthur turned again to the next nearest person. Morgana glared and Arthur shifted back just a bit. How could a girl be so goddamn scary? Not that Arthur was afraid. Simply unsettled. Still, he wouldn't try talking to her again. Just to be safe.

Draining his cup subconsciously, Arthur let the ale sit in his mouth, searing his tongue with the fierce taste. He swallowed and it burnt his throat, leaving behind such a blinding sensation, it was pleasurable. Dropping the empty goblet with a thump, he jumped as a figure was by his side without another heartbeat.

Merlin's face was pale in the dancing firelight in the hall of celebration, framing his enchanting eyes. Hair falling in locks over his eyes, the innocence almost unbearable. Sometimes, when Merlin caught the prince off guard like this, Arthur just wanted to bite that innocence right out of him. A small smile played at Merlin's lips as Arthur stared at the manservant, watching Merlin refill the cup with a jug of ale he held.

The water ran from the jug to the cup and Arthur's eyes ran from the top to Merlin to the bottom. Such a thin, gangly frame. Did Merlin actually eat? God knows he looked like he didn't! He was so thin and small. So easily breakable. Arthur would have to be gentle… That was if he had any control left at all. To actually get Merlin would mean Arthur would have cracked under such luscious emotions. Such desires. The prince had a will of iron, and God help him, he wouldn't give in.

That didn't stop him from _wanting_ Merlin.

Picking up the goblet, Merlin set his jug down and handed it to Arthur, that smile now full blown and forcing Arthur to keep his breathing under control. The prince reached out and took it. Then it happened. Just for a split second, their hands touched and their skin brushed and their breath caught in unison. Those glorious white electrical sparks split Arthur into pieces as they went through his body. Would it be inappropriate for Arthur to grab his manservant, pin him to the table and devour him?

The Look clouded his eyes, brimming over his features and pulling away that mask of marble to reveal a desperate man. It was a ravenous hunger that eradiated from Arthur. It was contagious too, and spreading like wildfire. Merlin was just so _intoxicating_. Arthur tried to ignore it, tried to control it, hell, he just tried to stop it from breaking that fragile iron will.

What was worse was that that the Look was mirrored in Merlin's eyes, literally begging.

"Anything else, Arthur?" The prince swallowed, head swimming and distant with thoughts he prayed weren't playing out over his features.

"No," Arthur replied, just barely. Merlin collected his jug and walked away, leaving Arthur in after-shock. The warlock sighed slightly. Arthur just swallowed again, resisting the urge to shiver. How the hell did Merlin do that? How could his goddamn manservant leave the prince in this state? Shifting in pants that were suddenly too tight, Arthur glanced down and murmured,

"Traitor".


	3. Gluttony

**Gluttony**

**A/N: I _hate_ this. Siriusly. I couldn't make it any better so here. Take it away. ****I know that technically they're were no bathrooms but for the sake of the story, there are several basins in the bath chambers that Arthur decided to chuck up in. Just to make my life easier. Enjoy and don't forget to review and tell me how horrible it is compared to the last one. Urgh. **

Throughout the shortness of life, we always thrive in the things we enjoy the most. The most important of these will always be indulging in one of the essentials: Food. Taste is one of the five and oh, how we love the sensation that filling that vast hunger brings. Sometimes, we just can't stop ourselves, to the point where we eat ourselves to death. These curses we call feelings are always the death of us.

After all, a person can die from a broken heart.

We continue, moving on as the human race always does. So what if some people are addicted to food. That person isn't you.

………………………………………….

"Um… Sire?"

"Mphat?

"Breathe".

Merlin could only watched, eye brows raised and jaw hanging slightly open as plate after plate after plate of food was poured into the great, gaping abyss of Arthur's mouth and swallowed without chewing. While the never ending hunger seemed to grow, Arthur seemed more and more determined to eat as much as he could before he either exploded or ran out of food. When Merlin had brought him his evening meal, the warlock could understand why Arthur had asked for seconds. But now he was on his fourth meal of the evening and Merlin was simply worried.

Arthur swallowed, pausing for breath and ale to dampen that raw throat of his so the food could slide down faster. In this moment, he chose to snap at Merlin. Of course.

"I was in a coma for over three days, unable to awaken and in that time I got plenty of sleep and no food. I am starving, here!" Arthur spluttering with a full mouth, "Plfus, I_ am_ bweafing!"

Merlin only stared with a look of horror at how fast mutton could be devoured by a prince, nodding weakly. True, Arthur had fallen into a deep sleep. And Merlin still didn't know who'd put the prince into that coma, but Merlin knew how he'd gotten the prince out of it. And, although Arthur didn't remember, and Merlin refused to admit it, the solution was simple enough.

A kiss.

Merlin had tried everything, and I mean _everything._ Every spell he knew, every potion Gaius could make and even the Dragon didn't have the answers he sought. So Merlin had given up hope on the third day, unable to awaken the prince, and he'd kissed Arthur, falling apart. It was meant to be a goodbye kiss that had somehow allowed Arthur to open his eyes and instantly moan about how hungry he was.

_And with true loves first kiss…_

So Merlin had brought food. And lots of it. And then he'd gone back again. And again. And even once more. By now, the cooks were pretty irritated, but, what his highness wanted, his highness got.

Merlin was now full of regret.

Was the hunger a part of the illness that had overcome Arthur and sent him into the coma? Was Arthur still sick? Would this get any worse? What if Arthur never stopped? Merlin gulped as Arthur wiped his mouth, cheeks huge and lips deep crimson with the amount that had passed over them in such a short amount of time. One word sent chills through Merlin.

"More".

The warlock took a courageous step forward and began with a cautious voice,

"Arthur, I think you've had enough. Why don't-"

But he was interrupted as Arthur stomach gave out a great whine unexpectedly. There was a long pause, during which two sets of eyes stared at the slightly bulging stomach. With another long whine, it began. The prince put a hand over his mouth, eyes wide.

"Oh no," he groaned, stumbling up from his seat and running out the room with such a speed, Merlin could have laughed. The prince let out a great wail as his stomach whined louder, "Get out the way!"

Pushed Merlin to the side, the warlock heard Arthur slam the door to his bath chambers behind him. The sound of gagging soon followed. Merlin just stared at the space Arthur has been sat, mouth still open from where he was interrupted. He sighed and groaned slightly. He'd have to clean that up later. _Brilliant_.

Well, at least Arthur had finally come to his senses and his body was rejecting the excessive amount of food. Although, Merlin was surprised Arthur's body had put up with the food this long. Merlin just leant against the wall behind him, trying not to listen as the prince threw up. Eventually, when a silence had awoken Merlin from where he dosed, the door open and Arthur stepped out.

Saying he looked like death warmed up was an understatement.

Arthur was _green_. Literally. And he was a very pale green. A layer of sweat covered his forehead and his hair clung to his forehead in a surprisingly attractive way. He held his stomach and groaned. Merlin bit his lip as he tried not to laugh. As a final resort, just to make sure, Merlin held his arm out,

"Would you like me to fetch you something else to eat, sire?"

The prince looked up, wide eyed. Gagging, he span around and slammed the door behind him. Merlin actually laughed this time. Served Arthur right. The prince shouted through to Merlin, making the manservant jump,

"Take it all away!" Merlin sighed, "Now!"

The manservant shook his head. More work. Just _great_.

Moving over to the table, he began to pile the mess the prince left behind and shook his head again. It was going to be a long night. But at least Arthur was alright.

One thing was for certain. Arthur wasn't sick or still enchanted.

He was just a pig.


	4. Pride

**Pride**

**A/N: I'm much more proud of this one compared to the last one. It's very metaphorical though. And a bit gruesome. Enjoy and don't forget to review x**

Falling in love is like greeting a great petrifying ocean after living your whole life in the middle of a desert. It is strange, unknown territory. You're cautious and so afraid, not daring to go near love's icy waters. Yet curiosity urges you forward.

The first time a single drop touches your skin, you're hooked.

It's so cold. So refreshing. Such an amazing release, it takes the air from your lungs and the fear from your heart. Like nothing you're ever felt. You walk straight in, willing to let yourself drown. It's so thrilling. So blissful. So new!

Each wave of love hits you like a cleansing attack of some alien creature on your soul. With each wave comes a new emotion. Words cannot describe.

Yet it's just one feeling that this part of the tale will focus on. One that is so bitter and so fierce, it's awful. But waves just won't stop crashing. Won't stop rolling over you. Just won't stop.

Not that you want them to.

………………………………………

Tournaments dawn like some horrific, tortured sun over the horizon of the castle walls, soon followed by a orchestra of hooves as the knights charge in, brutal with anticipation. Flags fly in a forceful wind, armour drips pure excitement and glory-lust in the heat of the day and the king takes his place, people falling down as he does, lost without a king.

Merlin stands there, day after day, simply blending in with the stale air and the shadows, his skin burning in the summer heat as he watches. Arthur is the prized warrior of Camelot, garbed in the great scarlet and gold of the mighty kingdom. Every one of his battles begins with a mighty roar and ends with a desperate roar. Each one of the opponents cry in false hope and whimper in lost hope. Each one of the enemies rise with no reason and fall heavily. Pathetic.

Yet from Arthur there is no noise, just prancing around that stage, working against the audience and catching their attention effortlessly. He is a great performer, slipping on his masks so easily and fooling all but one. Merlin sees through them. Yet these watchers don't. As he smiles charmingly and holds out his sack made from the tears of laughter, they drop in their souls, clapping as he bows. What a demon he is. What a twisted person he is. And what a king he'll make!

Swords clash, these idiots thinking they can win the unbeatable champion. Armour whines and helmets are flung away with the carelessness only a human has. The whole audience holds their breath in unison. Like some majestic dance, both competitors complete their steps, fitting together perfectly in their differences. Arthur prances with all his elegance and confidence. The other one falls about in stumbles and stutters, so easily beaten.

The crowd gasps in unison as the final blow is laid and the enemy falls without even a sigh from Arthur. The silence that echoes from his lips is eerie. Arthur looks up while the stadium is alive with claps and cheers. The prince stares only at his father, seeking the very thing he fought for. Acceptance. Uther merely nods and Arthur beams, turning to the next most important person in his life.

Merlin is grinning so wide, his face should split. His hands begin to ache. Everyone follows the prince's gaze, witnessing at how both manservant and master share a stolen, forbidden glance. There is magic lingering there. There are secrets. Yet everyone can sense them. Can see how neither of them dares to blink. The boys think they're all blind, but that is a lie in itself.

Merlin is overwhelmed and cares not.

This is the selfless pride that love brings.

………………………………………….

Years pass. So many painful years. Still, the feelings brew and aren't acted on.

_Because we're dead if they knew…_

Prince Arthur becomes King Arthur. Camelot becomes _Camelot_. And their love becomes the greatest lie that every was. Tournaments are a thing of the past, a simple foolish hobby the invincible King used to do in his spare time. Now there are other battles to be won. Other enemies to defeat. Now there is war.

Where as it used to be for the glory, the stories and the acceptance, now it is for one thing. Survival. Kill or be killed. And the King willingly walks into this beautiful scarlet abyss, sword unsheathed and held up, still as silent as always as his eyes are ablaze in the bloodlust. He slaughters like the true demon he is, every life he licks away with the edge of his unstoppable blade is another chip off his soul, his innocence and his humanity.

Merlin watches, never frowning, never pausing to think and never questioning. He's still caught up in the childish games the King used to play. Merlin doesn't think of the lives ending but of Arthur's growing and reigning.

Not even flinching, Arthur does quite the opposite. He smiles. A brilliant, heart stopping smile Merlin goes to war simply to see.

The King's smile doesn't slip off when the bodies pile up behind him as he runs through fields of enemies. The King's smile doesn't slip off when he's prancing his perfected dance through forests of souls that are being dragged down under the earth and oceans of running streams. The King's smile doesn't slip off when it begins to rain blood, falling down on his face and painting him scarlet. The King's smile doesn't slip off when the blood drips down his face like some grotesque tears that his unheard screaming soul weeps.

The army of the fiercest, best warriors in the land lies before the silent king, all their faces caught in the last petrified moments of their existence as they saw this great, boiling demon run towards them, fangs drawn and eyes deep black. The skies open up in great cracks of agony as the Gods shout over the loss of so much life. The King needn't bring any men. He could do it all on his own.

Pride wells up in Merlin and the warlock beams, great crackles of the feeling spreading all around him.

Flowers blossom in the blood.

Still, this is not a sin. Love can be horrific. The sin comes with the next events.

After the mortals fight, it comes to the fight of the powerful Gods. Merlin fights with such an empty dominance, he can kill him enemies with their own fear alone. Black blades of sorrow fire from his eyes alone, spears of anger tipped with the tears of the innocent stab all and that stunning language of poison and verbosity rolls through the air like an after-thought, lagging behind the magic. Storm clouds rolls out and rain grief. All these weapons are nothing compared to when Merlin isn't attacking, but defending.

A single, dumb sorcerer tries to attack the King in a moment of blind idiocy. She had no idea what she'd just done. Merlin kept his eyes on Arthur the whole time he fought, watching the King light up with the same mirrored pride that took years to grow, a slight curve of his lips fuelling Merlin's magic. With his mind's eye, Merlin saw this fool try to attack Arthur. And then it happened. Then the true force of the greatest terrifying warlock to ever live flooded through that battleground, that graveyard, those acres of forests.

Merlin stopped everything, sending butterflies of misery to every other one of his opponents that pierced their hearts and killed them instantly. He turned to her and he did the last thing she expected. The last thing that she'd ever see. The only thing she feared.

He forgave her.

She'd attacked Arthur – _his_ Arthur – and he forgave her for it.

The rain stopped, the clouds rolling away for a sunset of scarlet where their battle had stained the skies. He stepped towards her, every step bleaching the red earth emerald as breath-taking creatures grew and blossomed in mere seconds, full of poison.

Stopping in from of her, he blinked once.

From that cloudless sky came a single drop of forgiveness that had been held there by the warlock in preparation. It fell so quickly, no one saw it.

It hit her on her forehead.

She gasped, taking her last breath.

From the second it touched her skin; it seeped in through her soul and shredded that pathetic soul of her into tiny pieces. Each one of those pieces was then engulfed by the forgiveness, left to burn in the flames of redemption for eternity. Her screams made the world shiver. Her mind was taken into the curled claws of forgiveness, crushed with her last feeble breath. Every thought, every memory and every emotion was crumbled into ash that was sprinkled onto the rest of the planet, letting newly born children breath for the first time. A deep, rippling throat of forgiveness took up her heart and devoured it, dissolving all her love in its acidy lining. The teeth stripped the heart of its flesh as it fell down the never-ending, blade-rimmed tunnel for the rest of time.

Her hair fell out and turned to air as they let the world breath. Her skin became opaque, stripped from her bones as it turned to ruby dripped ribbons in the air. They became the flames of some fire somewhere distant. Her bone turned to dust, lining old, unreachable book in the darkest corners of the world.

Her death would never end. And Merlin forgave her for that. Because after so many years like this, all forgiveness held as meaning was pity for Merlin. Merlin pitied her, so he forgave her.

This happened in the time it takes to blink, so Arthur saw her and then he didn't. Smiling, he stepped forward and touched the skin of Merlin's face. Time froze around them and Merlin smiled back. This was yet another stolen moment no one would see. They couldn't be seen, so in this moment they could let the endless caverns of their love pour like a river that had been clogged up by a deadly dam.

Merlin would do anything for Arthur. The lengths he would go to for that King. Merlin had killed. Merlin had died a few times. Merlin had left everything – friends, family, his home and even his life – behind for Arthur. And Merlin gave up his soul.

Because it is the pride Merlin felt in himself for killing in such an inhuman, unearthly and horrific way for Arthur that is the sin. It striped this stranger called Merlin of his soul and the warlock just shrugged and turned back to meet eyes with his Arthur.

And you know what else?

Arthur had done exactly the same for Merlin.


	5. Wrath

**Wrath**

**A/N: This is a much longer chapter. Thanks to my millions of reviewers! I had no idea this would be so popular :D *bear hugs you all* **

**I've changed the plot of my story so far away from the original story, it's insane. This chapter seems to be in the form of several other stories: Gandalf fighting in Lord of the Rings, the Golden Trio in The Deathly Hallows and the end of the Lion King. **

**Igraine, Igrain, Ygrain… Whatever. However you spell it, it's still her! Enjoy!**

Humans are made up from three base compounds.

Survival – that desperation to simply exist against all the odds. Sexual desire – the uncontrollable urge so important to us that it's a sin. And anger.

Fury is the puppeteer of the humans. When hearts race, blood pumps the dark emotion around the body and skin is bleached deep red as the blood begins to boil in the deliciously hot anger, the cold grip of control is melted away. Humans become blind to logic, reason and all intelligent talents the superior race boasts.

Murder, violence and bloodlust all connect to anger. It is the source. Mix all that with the power to get away with it and the end result is a King that slaughters his own kingdom. Rivers run red, family bonds are shattered and respect becomes the thing of myths.

But all does not fall under the ruler's devouring shadow. Aren't there stars in that inky abyss of a sky? The lights in the dark, the last wisps of hope and the unsung heroes for this damned kingdom take the form of angelic familiarity. Love. Friendship. Broken trust. And the gentle tears laughter brings.

That is until the prince becomes the King and the lights begin to fade.

Then the warlock is left standing alone between the cracks, staring at an out-reaching hand. Then Merlin takes it and stands shamelessly by Arthur's side as the angel of the prince becomes the demon of the King.

…………………………………………..

Rain drummed heavily, dripping through the trees as the ancient beings cried. The water washed away the life of the valley. The heavens sighed. No matter how much they weep, they'll never be able to change the ways of the humans. Knights were scattered about the valley like stray pebbles on a silent beach, trails of scarlet led down their faces from their wounds, pooling their own blood beneath them. Camelot grieved. But the fight wasn't over.

Following a perfected strategy, Arthur pranced his dance of battle as his grotesque dancing partner crept around him. The opponent: A great beast, made up of flames that had been brought together and tied with bonds of petrifying heat, its whole body taking the form of a creature close to that of a dragon. Its eyes stood out against the bronze, crimson, amber and deadly cobalt.

Arthur threw out his blade again and again, trying to defeat the flame with metal. The prince's skin was black with the smoke the creature breathed on him. Arthur had to keep his distance just to prevent suffocating. Arthur stood alone now, the rest of his companions killed by the beast already. Their battleground was just a great sunken bowl in the earth where the creature's flesh had destroyed all life. Trees withered and burnt in seconds. Plants simply turned to ash where they stood. Green left for a whirling grey abyss. Even the rain was evaporating before it hit the ground around them.

Arthur stood back again, taking time to breathe clean air. The prince just stood there; ready to defend, while staring at the creature. And it stared back. The flaming creature's eyes were so human, it was impossible. They had a pearly background, with emerald rings, tinted with beryl, and a single black dot for a pupil in the centre, full of curiosity. This creature looked so afraid, so alone and so very confused. All it had done to deserve this was existed. These warriors attacked it simply because it was there. It wasn't fair.

The creature tilted his head at Arthur, confused further. Was this silly two-legged man different from the rest? Arthur saw red spots. This strange creature had killed many good men and now threatened the prince. Arthur owed his lost friends vengeance. Taking this opportunity in the creature's lack of preparation, Arthur stood up and charged. He threw his blade, sending it towards the creature with such a speed; he almost lost it in the air. The sword pushed the world out the way, slicing the air as it moved in complete silence.

The blade hit the creature square in its chest, hitting the centre of cobalt that was the core of the creature. The Dragon's flames imprinted on Excalibur fought with the shrieking flames of existence. Tumbling back, it cried out in agony. Arthur broke his silent pattern unexpectedly as he fell backwards also. An invisible and impossible force had hit him, sending white hot pain through his chest. The unseen blade slipped between his ribs, shattered the bone and penetrating the soft, delicate organs beneath.

He'd sustained the same injuries he'd inflicted.

Hitting the ground as the pressure of the wound grew too great; Arthur's eyes rolled back in his head with the pain and darkness became his world. Lying in the ash, Arthur was a fallen angel.

Staring wide-eyed from where he hid in the shadows of the forest – what was left of the forest – Merlin watched his prince fall. The warlock knew he couldn't interact with the fight and now it was too late. Arthur was injured. A deep, rippling cry – sounding as though it was Merlin that had been injured and not the prince with the amount of pain lacing the manservant's throat – echoed around the graveyard of a valley. The rain stopped with a deafening whine, the clouds shying away from the broken warlock. The magic grew uncontrollable and a vicious wind picked up. The end was coming.

The beast whimpered and growled as one, stumbling about but not falling off its legs as sparks erupted from its wounds. Each one of its flames went out, one by one, and it knew it wouldn't be long before it disappeared completely. Smoke billowed off it high into the sky that even the stars could taste the bitterness of death. The creature was blinded by its own pain and panic as its body shrank further and further. It refused to go out without a bang. Literally. It began to snow ash from the dying creature.

Falling to knees beside the prince without recalling how he'd got there, Merlin let the prince's blood cover his hands like a pair of beautiful scarlet gloves as the warlock tried to stop the bleeding. The wound was fatal. The manservant was forced to feel the prince's pain, Merlin's minds demanding it. Their destinies were intertwined, why not their souls also? Shaking, Merlin gritted his teeth. His magic was bleeding, bubbling out of its barriers, roaring so deafeningly and clawing so viciously that Merlin flinched with the pain. The warlock was battling the magic for control and losing. It was feeding off the anger and the pain, so the magic was never more powerful.

Putting a hand over the prince's eyes so gently, Morgana had cried in her dreams the night before, Merlin closed his own eyes just in time before he lost control completely. A howling scream of excruciating pain passed over his lips as Merlin unleashed the magic. It tore from his fleshy shell of a prison and threatened to physically rip the warlock apart. A light, so blindingly bright it burnt greater than any sun, burned through the valley. A ripple physically moved up the curves of the great cup and sent the light upwards, like a signal for the heavens to accept who'd won.

Billions of miles away on a distant star, a little girl looked up into her sky and frowned at a twinkling light in the darkness.

As the light faded reluctantly and seeing became possible, the world was reborn from the ashes of the destruction. Trees were at a height that they shouldn't have reached 'til decades later. Every flower had blossomed and the air was thick with the pollen. Animals could not be reborn, but their spirits charged through the new forest, full of song and laughter at their eternal life. There was only one single patch of ground that was a deep hole, completely black and full of tiny grey particles of ash that had once been the creature. At the end of universe, we will all be ash. From the centre of the ash mountain, the tiniest of flames swayed in a now gentle breeze. The creature had a second chance. It was allowed a path of redemption.

Merlin gasped as the pain refused to stop spilling through him. He stared down at the still unconscious prince. Arthur's heart beated weakly.

Letting his breath leave him, Merlin sacrificed himself. The warlock touched the prince and took all Arthur's injuries upon himself, leaving the prince a clean, healed meat sack. Merlin was immune to so many diseases and had died a few times for the prince, only to come back under the circumstances. So one more time wouldn't hurt. Merlin gave Arthur consciousness in return for his own. Arthur opened his eyes and Merlin closed his. For a split second, just a split second, they looked at one another.

Biting the air as he breathed, Arthur sat up and put pressure on his side. It was only a layer of bruises now. Feeling Merlin fall as he rose, Arthur caught the manservant before he hit the ground. Frowning, Arthur didn't take long to figure out what had happened from his broken memories and from the end result. He picked Merlin up, murmuring,

"I told you not to come".

_You know me, Arthur. I never listen to you. _

A knight, barely moving, stared with sudden terror. Behind him stood a group of fellow knights and a few soldiers on foot - all sharing the look of shock - from where the knight had gone to fetch aid as Arthur had instructed. The King was on his black stallion in the centre of the group where he'd come to witness the creature that had required _his son_ to send for help. Uther's leather gloves whined as they gripped the horse's reins tightly.

He'd watched and now he knew the dirty truth Merlin had been keeping.

The King knew.

………………………………………

"Father!" Arthur exclaimed, staring with hard eyes at the very man. The prince had always been such a good little soldier, so willing to complete ever one of his orders, going to such lengths to capture his King's acceptance and favour. But now Arthur was biting the hand that fed him and turning against Uther. Arthur began to defend Merlin the moment the accusation left Uther's lips, "What are you talking about? Merlin is no sorcerer!"

Uther stared at his son's hard eyes and determined face. The King had never been able to see through Arthur's mask of solitude. Yet in his son's face there was something so unexpected, it unsettled the King. There was a challenge. Arthur was challenging his father because the prince wouldn't back down.

"You _dare_ to defend him". It was no question but a statement. Still Arthur replied,

"Yes, I do. Because I know him, sire. I know he is no sorcerer and he wouldn't lie to me".

That was a complete lie. Arthur knew about Merlin's magic and had for a while now. Yet he never handed Merlin over or told the King. In fact, Arthur had been trying to protect Merlin and keep the secret just that, a secret.

Uther had never been a father to Arthur. He'd been a drill sergeant. And Uther had only ever been selfish and cowardly. Arthur received nothing off the King expect wealth, a title and battle wounds. And Arthur never wanted any of them.

Merlin had been a friend. An advisor. Even a person to confine in. How is it a complete stranger could save Arthur from his sea of loneliness and confusion where his own father couldn't? Merlin became all the family Arthur needed. Became his everything. Everyone saw how Merlin had changed Arthur for the better, but only Arthur knew how deep that went. Another secret hidden by the mask. Arthur had changed to the point where he would chose Merlin over Uther without a second thought.

Merlin had moved from second important to most important on the list.

Uther had no place. Not anymore.

"I saw it with my own eyes, Arthur!" The prince didn't even falter but the whole court gasped, staring around in shock to the very person who was being accused. Merlin had his eyes closed, looking down. But at that point, Merlin looked up. And he stared at Arthur. Gaius was stood next to Merlin, hand shaking as he tried to wipe the blood from the manservant's hands. Arthur had refused Gaius's aid.

Uther glared at Merlin but the warlock didn't see. "Oh yes, I was there. The power he has is unlimited. He didn't even use incarnations. Why do you think he wormed his way in, becoming your manservant?"

"-You gave him the job!"

"-Because he wants what all the other sorcerers want! My throne, my kingdom and my head on a plate!"

"No he doesn't! He is no sorcerer!"

"Yes, I am".

Silence.

Uther and Arthur had red faces, only inches apart as they shouted. The conflict between them was so brittle; it was threatening to break the bond they held. Not that there was much to break. Never had they been pushed so much. Now they both turned to stare at Merlin, along with the whole court. Arthur's face was deadly pale, staring with horror at his manservant, who stared back at him. Merlin's eyes hadn't left Arthur.

The prince searched Merlin for answers, already knowing the motives. The warlock had lied for too long and it had only caused death, false punishments and this - conflict. It was time Merlin stood up and faced his punishment for being who he was. It was time Merlin stepped out from the shadows, held up his white flag and said, 'Here I am. What are you going to do about it?' Otherwise he may as well be dead. He couldn't save anyone. And he only hurt himself.

Uther smirked,

"GUARDS!"

Arthur watched the soldiers walk in and take the warlock by the arms. Merlin didn't even look away from Arthur until he could no longer see the prince. Wincing in pain at their rough grip, he was virtually dragged towards the doors. Arthur and Gaius started at the same time,

"Father! You can't throw him in the cells in that condition!"

"Sire, I beg of you. His wounds are severe. I must have the chance to treat him".

The guards stopped and Merlin looked back at Arthur watching the prince's reaction. Uther glared from his son to his physician. So this strange behaviour was contagious? Gaius held the old King's gaze, but knew his own life was on the line here. Arthur growled. Uther threw his hands out as he spoke, voice lined with intense fury as he shouted,

"He is a sorcerer! Let him suffer!"

"Sire, please," Gaius begged. The physician couldn't let Merlin die. With the prince on his side, perhaps they'd succeed in saving Merlin. If not, then Gaius would go to extreme lengths for the warlock. Uther snarled,

"He's the enemy!"

Arthur snapped. The mask fell off and the prince became what he'd slowly been turning into over the long years. A warrior fighting a battle against his own leader. Arthur finally gave into his darkest thoughts and turned on his father, no, on Uther. Uther became nothing to him and Merlin became everything. It was time to finally choose a side and Arthur knew instantly which he would chose.

"If he's the enemy then so am I!"

A gasp in unison. A raced heartbeat. Silence.

Staring at his son, caught between fear, shock and outrage, Uther took a moment to collect his thoughts and emotions together. Arthur simply stared back, eyes daring. He was not backing down and he was going to push this not only 'til it cracked but 'til it was ash on the floor. He was a new person. And this person was the only thing that could beat Uther. And the King knew it.

"Would you care to explain this outrageous statement?" Uther asked, biting the words. Arthur let his lips curve into a small smile as he stared at his father, taunting. Arthur could sense the King's panic.

"I knew Merlin was a sorcerer".

Another louder gasp and an eruption of mutterings. Merlin's heartbeat quickened further and he managed to choke out,

"Arthur, no!"

The prince glanced to his manservant, eyes comforting and confident. Arthur continued,

"There is something you need to understand, Uther. It is true that we've been threatened by enchantments and creatures of such orientations but it is not the magic that is bad. It is the magic users. Magic can be good as well as bad and so can its users. Merlin has never threatened us, in fact, he's done the opposite. He's saved my life more times than I can remember and even you've witnessed that!"

Uther's eye twitched.

"He's saved us all. The whole kingdom. Lady Morgana, Gaius and even you. You owe him your life. And now you will execute him instead? It isn't right!" Arthur's eyes were full-on balls of flames, as ironic as that is. He was infuriated and he was winning. Not a good mix. "It's time you saw sense. I refuse to sit by and let Merlin die when he doesn't deserve to".

Taking a moment, Uther simply looked into his son's eyes to see undying ambition and courage. For once, Uther felt sudden pride. He'd raised his son well. No. Camelot had raised his son well. Uther would go as far as to say Arthur was acting like Uther. Like father like son. The King was intrigued as well as most certainly unsettled.

"I see you feel very strongly about this". Understatement. And that wasn't the first time Uther had said that either. Maybe the King actually was afraid of his son. Arthur didn't reply. Merlin gulped. "Under such circumstances, perhaps the punishment needn't be so severe. Perhaps banishment rather than death".

Arthur laughed a cold, humourless laugh and every person in the room shivered.

"I am not bargaining, Uther. I am demanding. It is time you lifted that ridiculous law and made magic legal. You saw Merlin's power; imagine having that to protect ourselves. As a weapon. As our advantage. Lift the law".

"Never". One word, laced with poison, signed Uther's death warrant. Arthur glared. In a split second he made a choice that would change history, send every one of their destinies down a different path and result in so much blood being split. Royal blood too. Uther didn't see the final card being drawn in his reading for the future. Uther didn't see the grim reaper smile at him from paper borders. Merlin did. Merlin saw what happened in Arthur the very second it did. And Merlin hated it.

"Arthur, no, please-" but no one could change the prince's mind, not even Merlin. Arthur voice was low as he cut over the warlock, sending fear spiralling through the old King.

"If you wish to kill Merlin, then you will have to kill me first. If you wish to banish Merlin, you will have to banish me first. If you even want to _breathe_the same _air_ as Merlin, you_ will_ have to go through me first".

Uther stared at his son, so taken aback he physically took a step back. His son was alight with his fury. Something had possessed his son and the angel was taken out at that moment, letting the inner demon reign. Thinking his son was bluffing, Uther merely looked on and said in a calm voice.

"So be it".

"So be it," Arthur repeated and he turned on his heel, walking past a wide eyed Gaius and a broken-hearted Morgana who stood in the shadows of the doorway, knowing what would happen long before the sun for that day had dawned. Gwen watched her friend and her prince with a look of horror and sorrow.

Arthur unsheathed his sword and pointed it at the guards holding Merlin. Eyes aflame, Arthur dared them. Some sort of magical force eradiated from Arthur, sending fear spiralling into the guards, making them step back and let the warlock take a shaky step forward. Merlin and Arthur stared at one another for a moment, a million words spilling in that look alone. Merlin gave up everything for Arthur and even faced death and now this was Arthur doing the same.

The prince sacrificed his home, his family, his wealth, all his nobility, all his honour and his throne.

Slipping Merlin's arm around his shoulder, the prince walked from the court with the warlock. They walked into the centre of the courtyard, into the middle of the town market and the prince announced,

"Rather than relieve the law against magic; the King had exiled his son. I, Prince Arthur, now refuse the title and vow not to return 'til that law is lifted. I hope you're proud of your ruler".

Arthur walked from Camelot and didn't return for a long, long time. Too long.

………………………………………………….

Years passed. Crowned Prince of Camelot turned to just Arthur.

Merlin became not a servant, but a friend.

Hate grew and Arthur grew malicious. He sought revenge. Revenge so sweet, it would blacken his heart and earn him a one-way ticket to damnation.

Uther grew bitter and lost without an heir. He became paranoid. He never lifted the law but he pushed it to great extents. He killed people simply because they were suspected. When Gwen was killed for suspected witchcraft, Morgana snapped. She'd already been so lost and so full of hatred after Arthur and Merlin left, this sent her over the edge. Uther would pay.

She soon found her old friends and together, they plotted against the King. Morgana's dreams became the focus of most of their attention, waiting to see if it was time. Merlin taught the seer magic. Arthur and Morgana made a plan to defeat all plans. They had a plan, a method and one hell of a motive.

They just waited. For a long time, they waited.

And then Morgana woke up one night, screaming. She never screamed. Not anymore. Arthur and Merlin were already by her side when she awoke. Wiping the sweat from her brow, she said the magical three words that sent waves of pleasure through aging bones.

"It is time".

……………………………………………….

Morgana was walking through the old castle walls, so aged and withered without magical secrets weaved through them. Her hood was down and her long ebony hair fell down over stunning if not slightly aged looks. It had been so long since she'd been here, and the castle seemed to have frozen while sighing, so old and worn. It was dying. So quiet and so still. The memories it held… The ghosts it housed… The laughter and the screams still echoed through those long corridors.

Touching the rock as she walked past it, she sent sparks of life to renew an old life force. Ivy grew where her skin brushed only seconds after. Beautiful black flowers bloomed, tipped with poison. Her eyes, her changed deep violet eyes, pierced anyone in the street. They fell under the elegant enchantment and literally fell to asleep, closing their eyes where they stood. Like statues.

Calling onto the elements, she drew in the wind and let it blow through every inch of the kingdom, carrying her enchantment with it. The land fell asleep in seconds. When they would all awake, there would be a new era. Life would change completely. The stars sang to her and she sighed, twisting in the warm summer's air, her dress moving like water. She smiled. Ah, the beauty of it all.

She would have no part in murder, only in saving everyone else from Uther's vicious rule. That _King_ would have killed them all anyway. This way, Morgana had saved them.

As the wind whipped through the castle and as every set of eyes closed, Uther only shivered against the chill. Sitting in front of a dead fire, the ashes being all he saw with his old, partially-blinded eyes, the King looked like a cracked painting, ancient and exhausted. Yet forced to keep living on. His head snapped up and his eyes clouded with understanding.

It was time.

He closed his eyes simply because he couldn't look at the hate in his son's eyes. Arthur stood over the old man, Merlin behind him. Merlin had never wanted to kill Uther, only to punish him. But Merlin would never stop Arthur from doing as he desired. After leaving everything behind for his prince, Merlin had let himself become Arthur's shadow, following Arthur, guiding Arthur, and being that tiny bit of Arthur no one took any notice of. The tragedy of love out of its time.

Tone calm and lacking in any spite, Arthur broke the silence, sending shudders of fear through Uther with the serenity of it every word,

"It is time to end all this, Uther. It is time you acknowledged losing".

The old King looked up without meaning to; falling into the trap Arthur's tone had set to make the King believe Arthur didn't hate him after all. Those eyes, those same eyes of Uther's only lover, burned holes into Uther and completely consumed the King's soul. Uther gasped in horror, looking away quickly in fear and crippling agony.

Uther saw Merlin instead. The King couldn't bear the pity he saw in the warlock's face and turned instead to the night.

He heard Morgana singing back to the stars in that twisted voice of hers. Uther heard the magic lingering in the words. It sent more shudders through him.

Voice so broken, Uther knew he was going to lose. And this would be his final night. Perhaps now was the time for a final confession, so that maybe in his last moments some tiny sort of redemption could be made.

"I never meant to start a war," Arthur didn't even twitch, "I don't even know what we're fighting for".

The magic had stolen everything off Uther. His lover, his son, his ward, his subjects and his whole kingdom. After so long of trying to defeat it, it had found a way to defeat him and Uther, he…he was so alone. And so tired. Age had caught up with him. Perhaps it was time to accept this war was over. Time to accept there was nothing Uther could do. And time to accept that Camelot was damned under the curse of magic and Uther really couldn't stop that either.

He'd already spent his life trying.

The King had lost his heart, his soul and over the years, his mind. Letting go of his fragile, broken body Uther may as well have been dead. The King sighed and spoke one last time with his final willing breath,

"It this is what you want, son".

Uther was dead already in so many ways, giving himself over to the darkness by closing his eyes and never intending on opening them again but Arthur raised his sword and sliced the King's throat open anyway. Arthur wanted to feel his father's blood on his hands. Gushing scarlet and quiet choking Uther's body still held onto the earth without his consent. It was over in a matter of seconds. Arthur paused, horrified as Uther's world finally hit him now his bloodlust was satisfied. Growling in deepened anger, he dropped his blade and cupped his father's still-warm, paling face, rolling if forward as the red rubies fell onto his clothes, his hands, his face….

"NO! Damn you, no! You will not have the last word! I will not let you win this, Uther! You can't forgive me. Father, you can't!"

Scarlet stained Arthur as Uther lay there, the darkness dampening the dead King's eyes. Merlin just closed his eyes and looked to the ground. The plan had been simple enough. Not clever or quick. Just good old simple murder. The blood began to pool. Arthur growled and threw the body to the ground. That was where Uther belonged.

Morgana gasped silently, freezing and looking up into at the sky. She watched the soul of Uther dance there for a moment, twisting and swirling with another soul. Igraine's. The soul-mates shared a moment of undying love and such gentle passion before a hand of bronze reached up from a deep crack in the earth and ripped Uther away, pulling his down. The King went willingly and a tear slipped from the leaves of the trees for Morgana's pity.

The moon looked down at the fragments of time and listed every one of Uther's horrid sins. She watched him die and watched trapped ghosts pass over, vengeance succeeded. The great Lady of the sky turned a blind eye for these very reasons. The Gods looked down at the never-ending list of those who had suffered because of this King and they shrugged. Hundreds had died and Uther was merely one person. They didn't care. Even the skies lacked in tears for his death. The people awoke and smiled, finally relieved of fear and pain. They too turned a blind eye.

Arthur was crowned King and the kingdom cheered. Magic was restored. Merlin and Morgana took their places at Arthur's sides where they would forever stand. They would protect him. The lion and the lioness. The worry that Morgana would turn against them was always there, for lionesses are always more powerful, especially when guarding young. It was only a matter of time before Mordred would return.

The sad thing that haunted Arthur was that even if he'd killed Uther and the blood would always lie happily on Arthur's hands, Uther had won. He'd felt Arthur's wrath and he'd still won.

**Yes, Arthur killed Uther. Yes, Morgana helped kill Uther. Yes, Morgana was actually the good guy, um, gal. Yes, I killed Gwen off. And yes, Gaius did sort of die too but I don't know how but I'll mention it again. And yes, Arthur never married and thus he never had an heir. Umm… Camelot went on to be ruled by some random boy Arthur gave his sword to! Woo! Morgana does turn bad in the end, though. Just for the record. Thank you, Mordred.**

**Okay, I think I've covered everything. Oh yeah, yay for Excalibur's return! And for Uther's death! 'Kay. I think I'm done now. **

**Don't forget to review! Story's almost over. Few more chapters! :O**


	6. Envy

**Envy**

**A/N: Well, this one was going to be an obvious one which was either a love triangle between: Gwen/Merlin/Arthur or Morgana/Arthur/Merlin or maybe Will/Merlin/Arthur but no, it won't be a love triangle. I fill in one of those gaps in the last chapter of when Arthur, Merlin and Morgana were plotting against Uther. Mwahahaha! Enjoy and don't forget to review x**

Jealously is just another quality that makes us human.

We all desire something, and if we cannot have it, it is usually because someone else has it. And so we feel hatred towards the other person. A poisonous emotion, but one we cannot be rid of. Every person had been envious and is at this very moment, no matter how much they deny it. We will never be rid of it.

People often get violent when they're envious. They take what they want by force, and are damned but willing to face the consequences. The tragedy involved is fatal.

But we are humans. We are violent. We are envious.

…………………………………………………………

Merlin was envious.

He'd sat there and watched Arthur and Morgana like the outcast, so very alone.

Morgana and Arthur had always been close. They'd grown up together. They were virtually siblings. And when she'd come back to them, Arthur had been so happy. He'd greeted her with open arms and she'd mirrored his huge smile. Merlin was left on the side, forgotten. After all, both of them had been royalty, lived a life of luxury and had more in common then either of them would with Merlin. And sometimes, just sometimes, they would look at each other this way and… and Merlin's heart would start bleeding. Yes, they loved one another. But were Morgana and Arthur in love? Back in the old days, people did used to say Morgana would have been the future queen…

When they worked on their plan, going through various strategies and theories, trying to find secretive ways to get away with murder, not knowing the kingdom would accept what they'd done happily, Merlin would just sit by, forgotten. After all, he wouldn't understand. But Morgana and Arthur did. Yes. They did.

Merlin wasn't blind.

……………………………………………………

Arthur was envious.

He'd sat there and watched Morgana and Merlin like the outcast, so alone.

Merlin was a sorcerer. He was so powerful. And when it had just been him and Arthur, Merlin had been alone. Arthur couldn't understand the burdens of pain that that secret held, but then along came Morgana. Morgana had magic in her blood too, just as powerful as Merlin. The warlock had treated her like his little project, so keen on helping her deal with her nightmares and so happy to teach her everything he knew. Merlin and Morgana would sit and speak about the beauty of the language, or the wonders of speaking with the _goddamn_ trees or the _oh so amazing _stars. It just left Arthur stumped. He didn't understand. But they didn't remember that.

When they stood there, practising the magic. Making the clouds rain. Making the flowers bloom. Making the river water into such delicious wine, Arthur just sat there, watching, completely forgotten. He loved the magic, completely taken by its wonder. But it was something he could never possess, not without years of practise. Morgana and Merlin were kindred spirits. And Arthur simply didn't fit into that. They pretended not to notice.

Arthur wasn't blind.

……………………………………………………

Morgana was envious.

She'd sat there and watched Merlin and Arthur like the outcast, so alone.

Arthur had known Merlin's secret. Arthur had protected Merlin. Arthur had left Camelot for Merlin. Merlin had saved Arthur's life so many times. Merlin had protected Arthur. Merlin had abandoned Ealdor, his mother and even his life for Arthur.

No one had ever done anything like that for her.

She would sit and watch them together, laughing at each other's confusing humour, smiling to each other, looking at one another is this way – so full of longing and care – when they think no one else is watching. The bond between them was one that could only be described as forbidden love. And Morgana had no one. Love only goes two ways, not three. They were more like brothers to her anyway! But there was no one for Morgana. No fourth person for her to love. Maybe she could go find someone, but not 'til their mission was complete.

Merlin and Arthur sensed each other's feelings, even though they never acted on them. They sensed she was alone in this. Merely a person on the side. And they tried not to make it too obvious.

Morgana wasn't blind.


	7. Sloth

**Sloth**

**A/N: Sorry I haven't updated in a while! I have excuses :D In this chapter, we touch on Merlin's immortality and Morgana's awesomeness. It is very slashy. And contains a very impressive creature I made up without a name, so you can name it. Yay. Enjoy and don't forget to review x**

Life is short.

You're born; you work so hard, you force yourself through every second without knowing why, moving towards this impossible target to reach something you know nothing about and then you die. Maybe death in the target we intend to reach. Or maybe death prevents us reaching it. Either way, life is one hell of a tough ride.

And it's hard. To the point where it simply becomes exhausting. A struggle. And here we meet the only way to defeat exhaustion: Sleep. We spend roughly half our life sleeping. Meaning it wastes more of our precious time. We lie in this vulnerable state for hours and hours, recovering from the race of life and recharging, so to say. Many people die due to being such easy targets while we sleep, yet we all sleep anyway. We have to. Or we die. Lose-lose situation.

It is in sleep that we greet the great darkness of the other side, glimpsing our unavoidable fate. Our minds sense the danger and cover it with such vivid things we call dreams. For some, these dreams touch on the uncontrollable power humans hold and we can see the future. They reflect our current life, love and fears. Blissful light greets gruesome dark and when dreams become nightmares; perhaps we get a first warning that ill-fate is upon the horizon from the nightmares. Perhaps not.

Our dreams tend not to be memorable. But then are signs in reality. Déjà vu. People walking over our graves. Repetition. The most unbelievable of things. And the horror of our dreams dawns on us and we remember just how terrifying sleep is.

But when we don't sleep, or we don't sleep enough, then we get tired. Exhaustion is a murderer. Laziness is an executioner. It can make us suicidal. We sit by and let the terror of the universe just slip by, not bothering to try and prevent the death as it unfolds. We look death in the eye and simply don't care. You just want to sleep. Want to seek the beautiful horrors of your dreams, because they're so much better than real life. And that's when it gets you. That's when it smirks. That's when death gets a grip on your soul.

When you fall prey to laziness. Fall prey to the sin.

………………………………………..

Laughter echoed from behind two solid wooden doors, the owners of the voices strangers to anyone passing by. A faint glowing from a blazing fire seeped between the wood and the walls. A prince had become King, relieved of any anger or pain and it was in this time when he stayed behind his own closed doors, completely free of accusing eyes and whispering voices that he was unashamed of what his heart said. This was another one of those tiny moments in which he could be himself, free of his infamous mask that he always wore and he could share stolen forbidden moments with his one and only soul-mate that everyone knew about but never spoke of.

"Merlin?"

"Yes Arthur?"

"Do you recall that _wonderful_ hat I used to make you where to the banquets when I got bored?"

Merlin groaned and slumped down in his seat, shaking his head. Arthur chuckled breathily as he poured the ale into the two goblets.

"I had hoped you'd forgotten about that," Merlin murmured as a reply. Chuckling again, Arthur fell back into his seat, handing one of the cups to Merlin. It's strange how long ago it was Merlin that was the servant yet here Arthur was, fetching drinks.

"Ah. I loved that thing". Arthur smirked as he looked at Merlin, who glared and sipped his drink, lacking the thirst to drink it. Arthur downed the goblet in one and mentally sighed. Why the hell was he drinking out of a goblet anyway? He should have gotten a tankard. But he couldn't be bothered going to get one, he'd just got comfortable.

"I _hated_ that thing," Merlin murmured. Raising an eyebrow, Arthur's tone was amused,

"No, you didn't," Merlin glanced at the King, blinking surprisingly seductively, "You loved it, Merlin. Admit it".

The warlock rolled his eyes in mock annoyance. But there was a smile dancing across his face with the fire light. Merlin didn't reply. Arthur dropped his empty goblet, still peering at Merlin with his lightly amused expression and requested, "Get some more ale, Merlin".

The warlock raised his eyebrow now,

"Get it yourself, _sire_".

They both grinned.

"You're the manservant". Chuckling, Merlin corrected,

"Yeah, ex-manservant, remember? I'm too drunk anyway".

Rolling his eyes, the King kicked off his shoes and crossed his ankles in front of the fire. It had been a cold winter in Camelot. Many had frozen to death. Merlin had layered the kingdom in great foggy acres of warmth. It hadn't stopped the death though. Instead, it had the opposite effect. It had drawn great, murderous and petrifying beasts from the surroundings forests like poison from a wound. They had killed many too. The knights were out at this very moment, searching. A little girl had vanished. She was the third in a week. Merlin expected that it was the work of some sort of demon that could step out of any shadow, disguised as a beautiful dove. It drank their fear to survive.

"You get drunk after two cups full, _Merlin_".

"Still, I can't get up. So go get it yourself". Kicking off his own shoes, Merlin started a war. He pushed Arthur's feet out of the way of the fire, replacing them with his own. Arthur defended against Merlin's attack. They fought with their feet a while, laughing gently. Young games for old men. They ended up sharing the spot, feet piled on top of each other, each other's toes filling the gaps between. Arthur stared from one set of limbs to the next, taking up Merlin's hand.

Holding his own next to it, golden bangs and diamonds littering certain fingers, the King compared his hand to Merlin's. Creased, pale skin and smooth still hydrated skin. Thin, malnourished bones and just as thin, if not slightly stronger bones. Old skin and young skin.

"See, Merlin. I'm an old man. I wither and wrinkle why you never age a day. My bones ache while yours are petrified, refusing to change. You still have your youth while I grow older every second. Weren't you taught to respect your elders? Go fetch the ale. I got it last time".

Merlin looked from the hands and to the eyes of his King and frowned, noticing the fading smile on Arthur's face. Here was another crack keeping the two soul-mates part. Merlin's immortality. The warlock had aged normally 'til the blossoming full moon of his twenty-fifth birthday and then he just stopped. There sat a stunning, fresh-faced, beaming young man, just on the edge of his manhood in fact and opposite him sat a whithered, old King, eyes clouded with the horror's he'd seen, crow's feet shattering once-youthful skin. His hair grew thinner and greyer by the day while Merlin's locks were forever bouncy. And the King felt old too. He was so tired.

Merlin just didn't.

It wasn't fair.

Merlin would have to watch the King die of the only thing the warlock couldn't save him from; protect him from, face instead. Time. Merlin would have to bury Arthur, still as young as this very moment.

"I think you've had enough to drink anyway, Arthur. You think I'm bad when I'm drunk, then you're simply awful. Do you think I've forgotten about that time you got yourself trapped in one of Morgana's dresses and ended up running around the castle, singing and telling that poor old chef you loved her, before confession your desire to wed a chicken?"

Arthur grinned full blown now and kicked his old friend's feet out the way, restarting the war while replying in a tone of mock-hurt,

"Hey! That chicken broke my heart, I'll have you know! But she sure was tasty," he licked his lips and Merlin laughed, kicking Arthur back while the King continued, "Plus, you were my manservant. You shouldn't have let me drink that much, let alone get in that state!"

"How was I meant to stop you?"

"You should have found a way, _Merlin_". The warlock let Arthur win and fell back laughing.

"Yeah, whatever".

The King was just about to reply when Merlin jerked up, eyes wide and his lips setting in a hard line, turning instinctively towards the door, magic boiling up in preparation for the oncoming attack. Arthur didn't have time to react, heart beginning to race in panic.

The doors were thrown open and Morgana stood there, hair askew, breathing heavily and eyes murderous. Darkness flooded in and the fire hissed in panic as it was threatened to be put out. Feet echoed loudly as a knight marched up the corridor and into the room, panting. Throwing her arms out, Morgana turned her deathly gaze on the two men.

"What the hell? I've been waiting for you two outside! Didn't the messenger give you my message?"

Merlin looked to Arthur, who stood up slowly, eyes narrowed. The King glanced to the warlock, sharing the same look of puzzlement. And then it dawned on them. Merlin answered, voice full of surprise,

"A maid came in and told us you wanted to speak to us outside, but we were drinking and… we thought it would only be something silly like the alignment of the stars or the cold and, you know, it must have slipped our minds…" And they couldn't be bothered hiking outside in this weather when there was a perfectly good fire and jug of ale on the table. Even if it was important. Night had fallen for Goodness sake! Morgana's glare pierced their souls.

"You two are-" she didn't finish, just huffed, "Did the fact I left on to go on the search with the knights slip your mind too? _Never mind_. The point is I've just returned with the knights from our scout and we've found the creature. It went insane. Started slaughtering the whole village on the edge of the kingdom. I was in the courtyard preparing to go back with more weapons and soldiers, hence why I sent you a message, but oh no, you couldn't be bothered-"

Voice blazing, Arthur cut in,

"What? You came back with _all_ the knights? Why did they return too?" Morgana gave Arthur a look of warning for cutting across her but she answered,

"Exactly! They refused to stay, even for me," in a voice just as infuriated.

"What?! Why didn't they stay and fight? They should have stayed! And sent a messenger back! Damn it, the whole village will be dead by now! And the creature probably gone! What the-" Morgana cut across now. Payback.

"I know! That's exactly what I said! But they just said-" She paused and turned to the knight that had been forgotten, "You tell him".

Gulping as the spotlight hit him viciously, burning his pale skin and bleached his dark eyes with panic, he spoke in a low tone,

"Sire, forgive us. But we couldn't stay and fight, even if Lady Morgana asked it of us. We have to ask the permission of the King to fight on his land, especially when it means killing things of magical birth. It's part of the law. We couldn't disrespect the law. It's part of the knight's code".

Morgana cussed, shaking her head. Arthur curled his lip, turning to glare at Merlin – It was that damn warlock's and his stupid, complex law's fault! - who simply frowned and asked in a gentle voice,

"Yes, it does state that in the law, but what did you think you would do to the creature once you found it? There is no other way to stop the death but defeating it. You shouldn't have returned". Morgana cut in, voice infuriated still,

"And _you_ should have come when I called and we could have been back there by now! More people are dying this moment! Pick up the hems of you dresses and get your arses down here!" With that she turned on her tail, storming down the corridor in the most silent and graceful way, it seemed impossible. She slammed the doors behind her with a short word, just for effect. Damn, that woman was scary!

Recovering from his shock and collecting his sword from behind his seat, Arthur sheathed it and pushed the doors open, walking out without a single word or glance at Merlin. The knight followed, head hung and eyes to the floor. Merlin just stood there, eyes closed and a sigh escaping him. This always happened when they got close. People always got hurt. Someone always died. There was always pain. This was the ongoing sign that Merlin and Arthur being close to one another was wrong, even if the feelings were secrets. The world was rejecting it. Yet why did it still feel so right?

Their selfishness and laziness resulted in death. That was the sin. Repayment was coming, just a few more years.


	8. Greed

**Greed**

**A/N: Sadly, here we have the final sin. And as I said in the A/Ns of 'Envy', I wouldn't do the obvious. But I have here with the Arthur/Merlin/Gwen love triangle. Well, sort of. This chapter is sort of a mixture of the sins envy and lust. In fact, it's lust-ier than 'Lust'. Hehe. And it has swearing! Well. It says the F word. Sort of. Forgive me ;D But I warned you! Enjoy. Epilogue is coming soon ;) Don't forget to review!**

Desire; wanting, needing, having and forever being called 'yours'.

Everyone wants to belong. Wants to be wanted. Wants to be loved. Wants to have a purpose in this God forsaken world. But to be wanted, to be loved and to have purpose, we require people to want us.

Every person in the world desires something. Whether it is a person, an object or an emotion, we all want _something_. And usually, we want the things we can't have. It infuriates us; pressures us and refuses to leave our minds. The desire nibbles away at us, driving us insane. We find ourselves speaking of it excessively until everyone else knows we want it to.

At the end of our lives, we will only be our desires, our beliefs and out thoughts, wrapped together in memories and once emotions.

But what if the person you desired was forbidden? Knowing you want something, you need something and knowing you simply _must_ have it but never being able to: torture. But having that desired person dangled in front of you, so easy to take, so willingly to be taken and also full of this longing is beyond torture.

And waiting, always waiting. Just for a sign. For permission. Just to get him. And then never being able to because it will be forbidden 'til beyond eternity simply because the Gods, or Fate or whatever power that write our destinies decided to birth two-soul mates into a time when they couldn't be exactly that.

……………………………..

"Merlin?"

A distant voice pierced the warlock's daydream and brought Merlin back to reality with a rather painful thump. Merlin much preferred the sanctuary of his mind to the blunt factual world. Foggy sapphires specked with golden power smiled at brilliant, mischievous hazel. Gwen grinned, a flick of trickery lingering there unexpectedly. "You know what?" Merlin shook his head in reply and she grinned wider, "The whole time I've known you, you have never courted".

Merlin rolled his eyes and Gwen chuckled slightly, defending, "I'm being serious! I've never seen you with another maiden. So, I've come to the conclusion that_ you_ must like _somebody _and be keeping it as your '_dirty little secret'_, so to say".

"Yeah right…" Merlin murmured. She raised an eyebrow.

"Do you think I'm blind? I've seen those secret smiles you sometimes wear and those looks of desperate longing across the hall. You are smitten, Merlin". The warlock smiled in weak amusement, shaking his head but his mind rang loudly with alarm bells. Gwen knew more than Merlin hoped. She'd seen what he thought no one had.

"I am, am I?" His thoughts must have shown on his face and in his voice because Gwen's expression suddenly beamed victorious.

"Yes, you are!" She crept a bit closer, lowering her voice to a whisper and unsettling the manservant, "You can tell me, Merlin. I won't tell. Perhaps I can help in some way". Her enthusiasm soothed Merlin and the warlock managed a timid laugh.

"Trust me, you can't".

Did he say that aloud?

The way she suddenly jumped up, alight in excitement and surprise with widened eyes told him he had in fact said that out loud.

"You do like someone! I knew it!" He closed his eyes, a slight groan escaping him as he sighed. Why did he always have problems with controlling himself? It always brought the trouble crashing around him, blocking his escape and cornering him in. Gwen faltered, watching Merlin and studying those terrified eyes and panicked wisps of a soul. Had she just walked in on something dangerous? Determined, she pushed, face full of gentle comfort, "You can tell me, Merlin".

Looking up at her, he took in the strange glint in those deep hazel eyes. Honesty. He'd always been able to tell Gwen everything. Except the obvious, of course. That was too much of a risk to tell anyone, even Gwen. But the maidservant was an advisor, and a loyal one. She always had an answer the manservant sought. Perhaps it was time to finally face this issue head on. To tell someone, to admit it all, the secrets, the lies, the dirty dirty truth and the horrible facts; then to face verdict of a friend. And find out just how disgusting the horrid truth was. Merlin sighed, glancing around to make sure nobody would over hear. Perhaps it was time.

"If-if I told you…" He sighed, the words hard to find, "You can't judge me. No matter what I tell you, just please, listen. Just listen. And don't think any differently of me. I'm the same person, it's just – I mean, it's… complicated," he dropped his eyes, "And completely wrong". But so right.

Heartbeats began to race. A smile fell and the victorious was shown to be the enemies, leaving the heroes in the burning ash on the losing side of the war. Her voice became regretful as the guilt washed against her,

"Oh, Merlin, no. You don't have to tell me! I didn't mean to-" Merlin interrupted, smiling at how Gwen that was.

"It's okay, Gwen-" But the maidservant was persistent.

"I shouldn't have asked. I'm sorry-"

"Don't be". She stopped, watching as his lips curved up slightly, "I want to tell you. Please. I need to tell you. To tell someone". Her body was suddenly attacking her, forcing tears into her eyes with the desperation in Merlin's tone. She'd walked in on something dangerous indeed. On Merlin curled into a ball in the dark, about to explode and destroy everyone. He was ticking down to demolition time and she had to stop him. He frowned at her alarmed expression and spoke to the floor, the fear clutching his patchwork heart so tightly. "Can you keep it a secret, Gwen? I wouldn't want to burden you-"

She laughed, silencing him and bringing his eyes up with surprise. A coy smile lingered on her face as well as eyes that said, 'You're an idiot'. She whispered,

"I can keep secrets, Merlin. Trust me. I kept your magic a secret, didn't I?"

Merlin stared at her, eyes slowly widening in shock as her words sunk in. His heart stopped. She smiled for a moment before realising she may just kill her friend with shock. "Don't worry! I won't tell! You know that, Merlin!" He swallowed against the lump in his throat. Now he'd gotten in too deep and he couldn't get out. She knew. Gwen _knew_. He felt rank bile rise in his throat and his stomach turned. He felt like he was about to be sick.

"How?" He managed to say and she looked at him, caught between worry and amusement.

"After a while, the truth right in front of my eyes became obvious. I didn't catch you or anything; I just noticed how the world was suddenly bright and blossomed when it was lined with your footprints. I managed to piece everything together in the end. I thought it best not to approach you just in case I'd gotten it wrong and, well, you know. It went…bad".

Blinking at her, Merlin tried to understand what she was saying. Gwen knew. She really knew. And he'd just confirmed it! What an idiot! Swallowing, he simply stared at her as she carried on with her rant.

"And I've kept Morgana's dreams a secret. I know why she wakes up every night screaming," She took the warlock's hand, eyes reassuring; "I trust you both with my life and it's only fair if you can both trust me with yours. You know me, Merlin. I would never betray that trust. It's just not me. And you _can_ trust me, I swear it. You don't have to tell me, but know that you can without fear".

Merlin just peered at her and at their hands. Gwen's eyes were so desperate to be trusted. And they _were_ trustworthy. And Merlin needed someone. He really needed someone. This secret was just poisoning his system, making him mentally and physically ill. It needed to be shared. He'd thought of telling Gaius, but that conversation would be _way_ too awkward. Gaius still had his head in the old days; he would be the most disgusted. Little did the warlock know that Gaius knew way before Merlin did. There was no one else for Merlin to tell. He'd realised himself _after_ he'd saved Ealdor and Will had died, so that crossed out his mother. There was only Gwen. And Merlin did trust her.

"Okay," Merlin said with a sigh, finding it hard to look her in the eye. She smiled reassuringly. He took a deep breath and the nerves were so rough, he felt like he was shaking. Was he shaking? Yet still a fond smile crept onto his face. "I don't like… I mean, I do like – but it's more than that. I love him, Gwen. I really do. And I shouldn't – I _really_ shouldn't. It's wrong in so many ways. But when I fell for him, I didn't realise. I finally understood when I had fallen so deep that I couldn't return". He dared a glance and saw shock dance across her features. He cringed and waited for the disgust. For the anger. For her to snatch away her hands and call the guards. He closed his eyes, enjoying his last moments of freedom.

And then she beamed and hugged him. Shock hit him now instead. An unsteady laugh and an excited giggle.

"Oh, Merlin! You're so foolish!" she caught herself, "Not that that's a bad thing. I mean, well, yes, it's foolish and quite dangerous but- but not wrong! No, Merlin, not wrong. Well, a bit, I guess," his face was caught between relief and hatred towards himself, "But love is never wrong, Merlin! Even if it is a man". Jumping, Merlin defended himself in whispers,

"No, no! It's not like that Gwen! I don't like all men, God no. Really," He paused, realising he'd never actually said this. Not out loud. Only in the shadows of his mind, "It's just him. I love…" A desperate sigh and then a rushed, "I love Arthur".

Silence. When he dared to crack an eye open, he saw Gwen staring at him, expressionless. It took a whole minute for her to finally move. And, God forbid, she did it. She _grinned_. Pulling him into another crushing hug, she beamed and jumped a little. It sounded like the best news she'd ever gotten. But it wasn't. It shouldn't have been. It couldn't have been. Because what he'd just told her was wrong, forbidden and equally illegal. She should have scorned him for it. Should have hated him. Should have been _disgusted_. But she celebrated it. Made him feel like it was as right as it felt. And that was a terrible, horrible, horrific thing.

She squealed for just a moment. And then she asked the dreaded question, in her own way of course.

"Does Arthur… you know…" She glanced around her, "Feel the same way?"

Merlin opened his mouth to answer only to find he'd asked that question a thousand times himself and he didn't know the answer. A frown of pure pain hit his face and Gwen put her hands on his shoulder, "Oh, Merlin!"

Just then, another hand landed on Merlin shoulder and Gwen jumped back, pulling her hand away as if she'd just been burnt. Her face blushed deep scarlet and she looked away. Merlin gulped without meaning to and turned only to face the person he dreaded seeing behind him but knew was there.

_Arthur_.

The prince looked awfully infuriated. Literally grinding his teeth and glaring at Gwen with eyes that should have been made of deep white flames, burning through her like blade slips through flesh – as if that was what they was made for. Behind those eyes of fire stood crumbling towers of control. Arthur was losing it and that mask had melted away with the heat of the fury eradiating from the prince.

Turning to Merlin and glaring harder still, he growled,

"You," Merlin flinched at the sharp betrayal in his voice, "Should be working". Licking his lips, the manservant replied weakly,

"I am, sire. I was waiting for your evening meal to be served. I was just… chatting-" He was interrupted by a prince on the verge of a massacre.

"I don't pay you to chat! Get up to my chambers and I'll let another servant who's paid to bring my meals _bring me_ _my meal_". Merlin nodded and desperately scooted past his master and scurried a few steps before glancing back and see Arthur look at him with that expression of blazing anger but now drowned in sore betrayal. They both turned to glance at Gwen only to discover the maidservant had already escaped. Merlin swallowed and turned tail, fleeing.

What had Arthur heard? Had he heard Merlin's confession? The whole conversation? Anything at all? Was that what had made him so angry? Or was that because of something else? When Arthur hunted Gwen down and held her at knife point, Merlin begged she wouldn't cave in and tell Arthur what Merlin had just told her. It was so foolish to say it in public! What an idiot!

He heard footsteps behind him, heavy yet so light. Distinctive to Merlin as much as his own. Arthur was coming. Merlin quickened his pace.

…………………………………..

Two hours later found both of them in a stale, stagnant Hell.

Arthur sat at the table, a full plate going cold in front of him. His muscles were tense. His lips were set in a hard line. And his eyes! If those blazing orbs of anger really could become the fire they almost were, than the wall Arthur glared at would have become dust long ago. Arthur was angry. And very angry at that. Yet still the manservant had no idea why.

Merlin knelt on the floor, wiping the cold sweat off his forehead with his damp sleeve as he sighed. His back ached. His shoulders ached. And his wrists were in agony. The bucket by his arm was almost empty, its contents on the floor while Merlin scrubbed away at them, leaving behind a trail of water.

The warlock paused for a moment, looking up the prince and only seeing half an enraged face. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. And Merlin could only blame it on himself. Desperate, Merlin broke a silence that cracked the borders of the room.

"Is everything alright, sire? You seem… a bit… irritated…" And then Arthur turned his glare on Merlin and the warlock felt every hair on his body stand on end. Arthur was not only angry but he was heartbroken. Bubbling beneath his surface lay such an untamed beast of murderous, violent, revenge-seeking wickedness that Merlin saw a complete stranger. He feared this stranger. But he also pitied him. Only the greatest of warriors have compassion. Only they can seek redemption.

"Do I, Merlin? Do I _really_?" Nodding, the warlock replied weakly,

"Yes, Arthur".

"_Sire_," the prince corrected and Merlin swallowed the bile in his throat. His face fell. Stomach turning, he felt suddenly as small as an insect. Something really was wrong. And it really was Merlin's fault. Arthur narrowed his glare, "I saw you talking with that maidservant before".

"You did?"

"Yes, I did," Arthur was hesitant for only a moment, demanding to know, "What were you talking about?"

Unable to hold that venomous gaze, Merlin asked the floor,

"You didn't hear?" Arthur glared harder, in the way only Arthur could.

"I don't eavesdrop, _Merlin_". The way the prince said his name sent shivers through Merlin for all the wrong reasons. Yet still waves of relief spread through as Merlin believed Arthur without question. The prince wasn't lying, yet Merlin still didn't bother to think he was. How faithful of him. Yet now there was this under-lying fear lining Merlin's soul, full of protective charm as Merlin realised something else had enraged the prince. Who was it this time? Merlin would hack and slice through them before they got to Arthur again.

Was that technically classed as suicide then?

A small smile fell onto Merlin's face.

"Oh, right. Good". Arthur cocked a brow,

"I asked you a question". Merlin grinned now.

"Why would a prince like you be interested in the idle chatter of two servants?" Arthur growled, jumping with impossible grace to his feet, glare harder still.

"Watch your tongue! When I ask a question, you answer". Merlin raised both his eyebrows. Right. Whoever had done this to Arthur was going to pay.

"Sorry, sire," Merlin mumbled, unable to keep the concern from his voice, "We were talking about nothing, really. Moaning about the wait and that sort of thing". Merlin held Arthur's gaze now as that silence tried to break the warlock's composed and perfected mask of innocence and honesty. It seemed to work as Arthur let his eyes widen and – thank God! – the glare left the building. Arthur curled his lip,

"And that gave her reason to embrace you and hold your hand?" he scoffed. Merlin simply raised an eyebrow of puzzlement. The warlock was oblivious as ever. He didn't hear the clear streak of jealousy in Arthur's voice. Merlin just shrugged it off, and cleared his throat.

"Would you like me to go clean your stables, Arthur?" Merlin was desperate to get out of this stuffy, accusing room he was being chained too by Arthur. The manservant used the prince's name just to test Arthur and see how he reacted this time. The prince didn't respond to the inappropriate naming, making Merlin beam, and simply replied rushed,

"No!" He lifted his foot and pointed beneath his raised boot, "You missed a spot. Do it all again". With that he took his seat back at the table and leant back with a deep sigh. Merlin stared; smile gone and mouth hanging open, at the back of Arthur's head. He _had_ to be kidding! Arthur had actually turned down a chance to humiliate Merlin and make him clean out the stables? Something _must_ be wrong. Merlin closed his eyes and sighed silently.

"I'll just fetch some more water, then". Arthur jumped up like someone had just set fire to him and he grabbed the bucket off Merlin.

"I'll get it, you stay here," he demanded. Merlin simply stared, shocked, as the prince left the room. Was Merlin being punished? Was he being forced to stay here in this tomb for a reason? Swallowing against the lump, Merlin watched the door close.

Something was horrifically wrong.

………………………….

It was evening. The night had fallen down from a great gaping hole in the sky, dripping from the pearly orb and collapsing over the other great orb in the heavens, the burning ball. The darkness pushed the sun down, extinguishing all light and suffocating the Earth below to sleep in a vulnerable slumber while it prowled the night, howling to the beautiful candles of the sky. An evening chill swept through the castle, stirring all the sleeping angels. It awakened the spirits that lingered in the old stone walls. It brushed against memories of laughter and tears. It accompanied the screams.

Tiny pockets of heat were everywhere in the old castle. One of the places it blazed the most was the chambers of the kingdom jewel. Prince Arthur's chambers. The flames of scarlet and bronze danced with one another, the friction spreading out like the warm breath of a stunning dragon. It crept up the walls and made them sigh with contentment. It swam through the air and the occupants of the room.

Merlin sighed too, kneeling down next to the fire and watching his creation burn.

Arthur sighed from the other side of the room, creeping over to his bed wearing little but his pendant around his neck and some breeches. Lying down on his bed, Arthur lay on top of the fur blankets, putting his arms behind his head and letting the warmth of the fire become his covers for just a moment. He peered down, looking at Merlin as the manservant knelt in front of the fire, smiling.

Merlin had always been Arthur's. Arthur's victim to bully. Arthur's manservant to boss around. Arthur's friend to blissfully ignore for reputational reasons. Arthur's. For so very long, it had stayed that way. Merlin was happy to be the victim, the servant, the friend and to be Arthur's. For some naïve reason, the prince had believed it would stay that way forever. But then he saw _his Merlin_ with that _maidservant, _that Gwen. Saw the smiling and the hugging and the way they held hands. Saw the connection. Merlin wasn't Arthur's anymore, he was Gwen's. What else was Arthur to make of that?

As Merlin looked up, Arthur turned away quickly. With a small groan, Merlin got to his feet and smiled at the prince, who was staring at the ceiling.

"If that's all, sire, then I have a bed waiting for me". Arthur didn't reply so Merlin gave a sad little smile and walked towards the door. Why was Arthur being like this? It wasn't healthy. Merlin needed to get to the root of this problem. Perhaps he should ask Morgana, she seemed to know everything-

"No". Merlin stopped, turning back to Arthur with a frown crinkling his brow. Not even looking at him, Arthur let the anger filter into his voice instead.

"What?" Merlin asked, clearly confused.

"No, that's not all. You're staying here tonight to watch the fire. I want it blazing all night. Best you lose your sleep rather than I get cold". Merlin just blinked at the prince for a few moments. Was he being serious? He voice was deadly so, but still? Merlin had to sit here all night and watch the _fire_? He really was being punished. What had he done wrong? The warlock swallowed and nodded.

"If that is what you want, sire". The things Merlin would do for that Goddamn obnoxious prince… Not making a single moan or complaint, Merlin gliding right back to his place on the floor, settling down and lying back, hands behind his head and ankles crossed. He took one more peek at Arthur and smiled slightly, closing his eyes and letting the fire become his cover, just like Arthur is so many ways.

The prince closed his eyes, desperate not to whimper. Merlin succumbed to him so easily; there wasn't even a fight. And then he fell to the floor, like a naughty dog, and he let Arthur rule over him so easily. The perfect servant and an ever more perfect victim. But not a friend. What Arthur would give for Merlin to turn around and shout and scream and fight and cry because that was what Arthur wanted to do. Arthur didn't want to have the world bow down to him anymore. He wanted it to fight back.

Why was he feeling this way? When had that question not pounded through his mind like an invading army of swollen hearts? Arthur was, God help him, smitten. He was all clumsy and lovesick and, dear God, even forgetful. If he could, he would kill himself. And even now, this overpowering jealously. It was poisonous.

And then there was the lust.

Arthur didn't want Merlin to just lie there, so open and so easy. With his eye closed like that and that elegant amber firelight falling across his eyelashes and his cheekbones and his skin...

Angels bathed in moonlight. Demons bathed in firelight.

And what a demon! So seductive, beautiful and so _fuckable_. Arthur wanted something so very wrong, he hated himself for it. Oh, isn't that ironic? Hating love.

Arthur turned on his side with a groan, wrapping his leg around one of his pillows and praying Merlin wouldn't see what he had to hide. Pulling one of the blankets over his head, he cursed quietly into the fur and hated himself so much. These thoughts spilling through his mind were simply disgusting. A prince, a man, a Goddamn _future King_ shouldn't feel like this. It was wrong on so many levels. But what that prince would give for it to be right!

Because Arthur wanted Merlin. He _wanted_ him more than he'd ever wanted anything in his whole life. And Merlin could never be his, no matter what. Merlin wouldn't be Gwen's either. Merlin wouldn't be anybody's. Merlin would always be Arthur's – to bully, to be a master to and to be a friend to. Arthur would make sure of that.

If Arthur couldn't have Merlin, no one could.

Peering up at the prince after he moaned, Merlin raised an eyebrow. What was wrong with Arthur? The prince looked almost in pain.

"What's wrong?"

Arthur just replied by throwing a pillow at him. Closing his eyes again reluctantly, Merlin turned on his side away from the fire and closer to Arthur. Tucking the pillow under his head, he sighed quietly. Something was definitely wrong with the prince and Merlin would find out what, fix it and then smile in success.

…………………………….

Morning came and Arthur woke to find Merlin a God. The prince opened his eyes groggily and there was his manservant, spread out on his floor by a long-dead fire. The pillow was a few metres away from Merlin, thrown away in the night during sleep. Idiot. Sunlight pooled in from the nearest window, falling onto Merlin's face and dropping over his fragile, thin form like a perfect fitting shadow of light. It was breath-taking and did just that, took Arthur-s breath away.

No lust this time. No greed. No sort of sin in any form. Just a single, petrifying and traitorous thought.

'He's beautiful'.

Arthur hit himself round the head and buried his head under his pillow and murmured,

"No! No! No! You don't think that! No! Idiot, Arthur! Idiot! No! No! No!" This continued 'til he fell back into a restless slumber.

He dreamt of the beauty of the shadow of sunlight around a thin form. He dreamt of something he could only dream about. He dreamt of Merlin.

……………………………

"So, Merlin?"

"Yes, sire?"

"You and that maidservant-"

"-Gwen".

"Yes, _her_. You like her, no?"

"Yes, sire. Of course. She's my best friend".

"A friend?"

"…Yeah…"

"And nothing more?"

"Of course not!" A laugh, "She's a sweet girl, but her heart is for some other fool, sire. Not me".

"Oh". Was there a hint of happiness there? Ah, Arthur and his beautiful mistakes.

Merlin peered at Arthur in confusion as well as blessed relief. The prince was a new man. Those lines of pain and discomfort had been smoothed off his face by the hands of an angel, leaving him perfectly glowing. That hard line of a mouth had unexpectedly curved up slightly into a quiet, secret smile. And those eyes could have brought anyone to tears. That ocean of hate, betrayal and unbelievable anger was now relieved for this tiny star of knowing that made a huge grin spread over Merlin's face. It was a miracle if ever there were one.

"Why do you ask?" Merlin asked. Arthur just stared at him with these eyes that said everything and nothing.

"Oh, never mind". The smile in his voice almost killed Merlin. He'd missed that tone. Nothing on Earth could compare to that loose voice, free of all heavy pain and resentment. It was greater than the first drop of water after the draught. The first crunch of a fresh apple in the beginning of spring. The first breath of a new born. The last breath of the damned. The giggle of a love-sick maiden. The great booming, drunk laughter of a dying king. Nothing.

Arthur walked away with a new spring in his step and Merlin didn't even think about it. Arthur was back to normal – better than normal – and that was all that concerned Merlin.

He smiled and followed, so oblivious.


	9. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

**A/N: Ah. Here it is at last. The end of the end. Thanks so very much to each and every person that had fav'ed my story or me as an author, that had put me or my story on alert and that has read even one chapter of this ^^ You convinced me to continue this when I first began! *bear hugs you all* **

**But I must say a special thanks to all my lovely reviewers. And especially my faithful reviewers. Petrelli Heiress for your huge support and for reviewing every chapter :D xoxLewrahxox my FanFiction sister who again reviewed every chapter! Grace Adreanna for your contant reviews and awesome comments :) Emerald Ice Dragon for your way-too-kind comments! Punk Chopsticks who supported at the beginning (Did you give up on me?!) Cheeky thing. And to my other reviewers: Static-As-You-Walk-Away, Semirrhage and Slothy Girl. Thanks so much! I couldn't have done it without you!**

***fills up* This is a terribly sad chapter. And a very unhappy ending. Well, not really, but you'll see. I hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Don't forget to review one last time people ;) Thanks again!**

The time came after many long years of silent suffering, desperate longing and creeping pain. Many battles had been started, fought, lost and won. Many friends had betrayed and had been lost. Many people had died, and so many had suffered.

But above it all, Camelot had never thrived greater and its people had never been happier. Magic brought back that lost hope and lost beauty to an aging castle. But it had to end sometime. And that time was here.

When Arthur fell, Merlin followed as he always did. The shadow cannot live without the person. One side of a coin cannot be without the other. It would just be incomplete. Merlin sacrificed his immortality for this very reason. So they died together, lying in the single pool of blood from both bodies, scarlet and scarlet merging like everything else in their lives, and then they smiled to one another one last time, thinking the end was here.

How wrong they were.

The darkness crept in, like a mutilated, wailing creature that was draped in night, sucking the light from the world and blinding them. Eventually, their last breathes left them in unison and they fell into the endless pit. The darkness clawed at them, taunting them. Thick talons took away the hope, the happiness, the fear and the dread. Their will was snapped and devoured, their hearts left tied around the bleeding wrists of their souls while their bodies were left in reality. No beautiful skin to break and bleed, no breath-taking eyes to stare into with such lust and no racing heartbeats to listen to. Not anymore.

And then they stopped falling. They couldn't see, couldn't feel, couldn't' hear, but they knew each other were there. And they knew they weren't alone wherever they were. They had no physical form – no eyes, no heart beats, just nothing. Yet still they knew. They didn't know how, they just knew.

The Silence ripped them apart, forcing whatever last wisps of life from them with a merciless tongue of venom. It licked away their humanity. The time they sat, waiting without knowing they were waiting, felt like years. Decades. Whole eras. And after so many long, long centuries in this darkness, there was sudden light. It blinded them to the point of agony, it was so beautiful.

They saw now a desk in front of them. And great oak desk, with just a single sheet of crispy white paper, a bottle of ink and a black feather, from a crow perhaps. The normality of it was horrifying and so glorious; they never thought such things could be so blessedly comforting.

Emotions were stripped from them by their sudden disobedience of Silence's wishes by them clinging onto humanity and feeling the adoration for the objects. Feeling the fear brought on by the adoration. No, no, no!

So then all they had in this massless form was logic. Thought, to be exact. Thoughts and perhaps opinions. No lies. No secrets. Just truth. No will, no emotions and no body. Just these thoughts and their hearts to hold the memories in and to prevent them from being hollow shells, for now.

And then, among the objects, stood a person.

A woman.

She was completely naked, exposing all her humanity in all its glory. Hair short and brunette, or was it blonde? Maybe red? Either way, it was short. No, long. And her eyes were so inhuman, they were wrong. Completely white, without the brilliant colour rings or the pupils. Or were they coloured? Weren't they blue? No, green. Brown? And her skin, it was so very pale. No, it was deeply tanned like the strangers from far away. Or was it deeply dark, like Gwen's? Her looks changed so very often, they were confusing. Standing behind the desk, she looked at them. And they looked back. For another millennia, this took place.

She had no true form and took the shape of something her two visitors would see, understand and accept. And this desk wasn't really here. Neither was the paper or pen or ink. Solid objects didn't exist here. Only spiritual. So when she appeared to take up the pen, dab it in the ink and begin to write, she wasn't really but if the two saw what she was really doing, their minds would snap under the strain to comprehend, under the stress to recognise and under the pure horror of it.

What she wrote they couldn't see.

She spoke, even though her mouth didn't move and she just kept on writing. They knew it was her because it was the only logical explanation. And because she was the only one there. And as wicked and impossible as the unique, enchanting voice was, it was most certainly female. One thing that never changed was the woman's gender.

"_You have lived a short life, both of you. Yet still you have managed to commit so many crimes. Break so many laws. You have managed to brush on every one of the sins and here, after death, it is time for you to be punished". _

The two didn't even reply. They just watched the woman scribble away.

This demon in front of them looked back over the pool of time, looking at every single drop and noting down every one of the sins. Of the crimes. Of the punishable acts. She registered the required punishment and for the next few million years, time went on like this. Her scribbling on that one piece of paper, never running out of room while the two just waited. When she was finally done, she set down her pen and stood up straight, looking directly at them.

"_Your punishment will be painful and you will suffer as you have made others suffer. Once you have repaid what you owe, you will have a chance for redemption. You will be given a second chance at life and in this second chance; you must prove you can live a life without committing these sins. If you can prove that, then you will be free. If not, then you will again be punished. Do you understand?"_

Merlin and Arthur answered as one, their voices so neutral it should have scared them.

"Yes".

"Yes".

"_Good,"_ the woman blinked for the first time, _"The cause of your problems in one another. It is because of each other that you commit these crimes. And so, as a hope to redeem yourselves, you will never meet in your new life. You will lack memories or recollection of any sort, of what happened in your previous life and here". _

There were a few years of Silence as it tightened a grip on the two, brushing against their flesh and sending goosebumps of understanding through them. Again, they spoke in unison.

"No".

"No".

"_No?"_

"We will not part".

"We will not part".

"_If you refuse the path of redemption, then you will face the rest of eternity in the Chambers of Repayment, being punished repeatedly. You cannot move on without redemption and so must stay". _

"I don't care".

"I don't care".

"_Really? You do not care about the pain?"_

"The pain of separating would be far greater".

"The pain of separating would be far greater".

"_Are you saying you would rather stay than be apart?"_

"Yes".

"Yes".

Love uncalled on can grow to the point of madness, where physically being unable to touch that person is agonising. It is the greatest pain. So the thought of being separated forever is unbearable. How can you rip a soul in two? It would leave wounds that would never heal. It's impossible to even consider. Humans are fragile. They can break so easily, if pushed enough.

The woman did not frown. She had no expression – always neutral. Her humanity had been taken too. A couple of short decades passed while she thought.

"_This is your final decision?"_

Not even a second passed before she got her answer.

"Always".

"Always".

For the first time, something was certain about her appearance apart from her gender.

She smiled.

It was small and barely visible, but it was a smile. Not a sick smile of pleasure in their eternal pain. Not a spiteful smile of jealously for their undying love. Not even a sadistic smile of false professionalism. But sad smile yet still a smile of bliss. She respected them for loving one another when everything was against them. She respected them for going through the pain knowing they would. She respected them because they didn't back down and they stood their ground. And for that reason, she didn't press any further.

"_So be it"_.

It took twenty-one weeks, seventeen minutes and fifty-three seconds for them to reach the Chambers of Repayment.

The woman faded, still smiling. She was followed by the objects, which were sorely missed. At long last, the light was there one second and not the next. It was strange, no descent behind the edge of the earth like the sun. Just gone without warning. But the darkness was better. It was secluded, warm and safe. A little pocket of relief before the oncoming agony. There was Silence. The deep breath before the leap into eternal damnation.

Silence let a finger fall across their faces. Their souls were so beautiful. So very angelic. Shame, really. Because there these little rips. These little stains. These tiny, insignificant flaws that earned them the ticket to this horrid place.

Silence plucked away their hearts and they screamed with such excruciating pain.

Silence laughed and merely let the hearts bulge and shatter in her hands, letting the blood cover her hands deliciously. It smelt so good. And looked so magnificent. The cursed wouldn't need their hearts where they were going.

Arthur and Merlin reached out and their souls touched.

They didn't let go. Not until time ended. No matter how much the demons tried, they couldn't make them let go.

Touching and knowing each other were there was the only thing that allowed them to get through the pain.

Sins are called sins for a reason.

Yet still, we know_ of_ the sins and we _know_ we are committing sins each and every time we do.

We commit the sins for a reason.


End file.
